Long Ago, When the Pyramids were Young
by Nike Athena
Summary: Dreams come when pyramids were young. Time flows like a river and history repeats- and the gang is being warned- by their dreams. PG-13 for some pretty gorey stuff.
1. Default Chapter

Eheh. So, you've decided to read it? I wont take it for granted, and so I ask you most humbly to review. I obviously don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! (but I could change that!), which is owned by Bandai entertainment and Konami. I don't own any of the characters, except the tall, robed, hooded figure. One more thing: if you know what Seto and Ryou Bakura were, a long, long time ago, then this story will make all the more sense. Enjoy!  
  
He was hanging from the low, grimy grey ceiling on a pair of glossy, brass like chains. The platform he was suspended over was the same, colourless grey as the ceiling; the walls were the same shade and material, giving the small yet vast room a seemless quality. His clothing hung in tatters around his mutilated body and they were all the same sensless shade of scarlet, despite the fact that they, too, once had colours of their own; mainly dark colours, but no red, none whatsoever.  
The darkness seemed to take shape, suddenly. A tall, robed and hooded figure was aprroaching him up the small flight of stairs that led to the platform, arms before it, crossed over his chest in a stereotypical Egyptian way. One hand was balled in a fist, holding what appeared to be a golden rod topped by a sphere, which had the Eye of Horus fixated on the front. The other hand held a very cruel looking wepon, crossing between a knife and a staff. The figure did neither halt or hesitate as it came to him, but stopped a good five feet away; he could see the figures eyes glowing at him from beneith the hood, giving him the impression that the figure was made of darkness and two balls of light. The person adressed him in a different language that was both familiar and unfamiliar to him, and withdrew the knife/staff and lunged at him with it. It rammed through his abdominum, through his spine and out his back; the pain was horrendous, he tried not to scream, but it came anyway, through clenched teeth. When the figure twisted the staff his tight scream evolved into a raw scream that tore at his vocal cords... And all he could do was scream and scream and scream and....  
  
* * *  
In another time, in another place, but the same soul and body, Seto Kaiba awoke in his spacious bed giving a raw throated scream that tore at his vocal cords. In his abdominum, there was a horrendous cramp that seemed to have no regard for space or bones; his nerves were jangling as though he was just stuck by lightning. Seto was screaming more from fear at that uncannily real dream he had just had rather than the cramp in his stomach that he could seem to do nothing about except clutch in agony.  
A small form, distinguished from the other bedclothing lumps only by the fact it was breathing, emerged from under the blankets, throwing them back in something like panic.  
"Seto! Seto! Please stop screaming! What's wrong?!" The little figure, now distinguishable as a boy by its voice, cried in panic. Seto Kaiba stopped screaming by clenching his teeth and unconciously running out of air. The scream died down into horrible, racking sobs and tremors through his body. His hands were still clutched around his stomach, mostly because of his inability to move from his previous position than from the pain in his stomach. The pain was fading quite quickly, almost as if it had not been there at all. Seto became slowly concious of the fact that small, warm hands were stroking his back and that someone was whispering comfort into his ear.  
Sometime during the night, Mokuba Kaiba, Seto's littler brother, had climbed into his bed with the usual problems of childish nightmares. As usual, Kaiba had asked what the matter was and enfolded his smaller brother with his arms and rocked the little boy as he spoke into silence.  
"M-mokuba." Seto whispered in a guteral stutter. He was vaugely aware of their roles of older and littler brother had become reversed. Small, firm hands were pushing him back to the bed and the lip of a bottle was being pressed to his mouth. If it had been poison, Seto wouldn't have cared; he drank with the passion of a long run horse. The pain in his throat lessened and his mind and vision seemed to clear; Mokuba's concerned face was hanging over his.  
"Did you have a nightmare?" Asked the little boy in a whisper. Seto managed a smile and nodded.  
"You've got... school tomorrow kid. Lay back down; try to get to sleep." Mokuba took his brothers bluntness with a grain of salt and dropped down like a rock beside him, snuggling his small face into Seto's chest. Very soon he drifted off to sleep, his breathing becoming peacful and even. It took longer for Seto to fall asleep. He really wasn't interested in meeting the black robed figure again.... However, in the end Seto Kaiba fell back asleep, despite numerous attempts at staying awake. And the kami were kind and blessed him with a dreamless slumber.  
  
* * *  
This was stupid. He was a billionare with a mega-corporation that spanned over Japan and parts of Eurasia; he was a genius with an I.Q. over 150. But he was still made to go to school. The kami, sometimes, could be very cruel and ironic, reflected Seto Kaiba as he pushed part of a rice ball into his mouth. He glanced, mundanely, over at the clock; twenty more minutes to school. As he glanced back to his breakfast he caught Mokuba's solicticious stare and did a double take to look directly at him.  
"What's wrong, kid?" He asked, knitting his brows and looking at his brother with his lapis lazuli blue eyes. Mokuba shook his head slowly, almost sadly.  
"You're sure you're okay, big brother." He asked, very, very softly.  
"Yeah. I'm fine." Answered Seto, confounded at his brother's behaivor. "Look, Mokuba, we've got to get to school pretty soon, so wrap up your breakfast and make sure to brush your teeth." Seto got up from his seat at the breakfast table and made to the phone to call for a ride.  
  
* * *  
  
"-And that takes your life points down to zero. Next time, don't get your head so swollen that you challange a regional dueling champion. Loser." Seto Kaiba said without a trace of sympathy or kindness in his voice. He got up from his seat at the long Science table and turned away from his recently demolished oppenent. God. Study Hall was so boring!  
Still looking over his shoulder at his shocked and nearly crying opponent, he started to walk away, only to collide with a person nearly his height but not close to his weight. Seto whipped his head forward, feeling his brown hair stinging his forehead, just as the person staggered and grabbed Seto's arm to hold their balance. It was that new-comer, the transfer student to Domino High, who had just moved here three months ago. The boy, Seto could call him a boy because he was a paltry sixteen while Seto was seventeen, looked at him placidly with his chocolate brown eyes, his pale skin and white, luminescent hair lending him an angelic quality. Even the bullies generally left this one alone; there was something about this boy that was entierly unsetteling. Not as though the boy had done anything sinister; indeed he usualy drifted around the school as silently and sadly as a phantom, but...  
"You know, you're a lot like you used to be." Said the boy abruptly, voice as soft and sighing as a dying summer breeze. "You haven't changed. At all. It makes me wonder if you'll ever learn." The boy touched the spot where Seto's previous cramp had been (the exact spot where the tall, hooded, robed figure had impaled him) and abruptly, the cramp was back, though not has horrible as it had been.  
"But there's still time. You may learn as of yet." Ryou Bakura was saying and he walked away.  
Seto Kaiba was stuck by these words like a slap in the face. Perhaps that was the reason he remembered this encouter vividly for several weeks, when it finally sank back into his mind and lurked in his subconcious. But Seto Kaiba couldn't deny the hook that Ryou Bakura had put into his brain, which slowly, ever so slowly, was pulling him to an unknown, but oddly familiar, destination... 


	2. The Gravekeeper and The Grave Robber

He walked carefully down the corridor made of limestone that was roughly hacked at by slaves too exhausted and weak to do a better job. Oh, by Set. If he didn't move faster, the Royal Guard would catch up and then an unpleasant scrimmage would take place and perhaps a trip to the Pharaoh. That would be unwanted as well as unneeded. Last time—  
  
But his train of thought was abruptly derailed as one of the Royal Gravekeeper's pole-arms inserted itself neatly into his abdomen and lifted. As much as he would have liked to, he didn't, or rather, couldn't, blast this insignificant creature into the Realm of Apoplis or sap his soul or do vast legions of numbers of things he would have liked to do as his consciousness swirled down the gutter. All he could do was scream and scream and...  
  
* * *  
  
Ryou Bakura woke screaming loud enough and shrilly enough to wake the dead his yami continually threatened to bring upon him. His yami had also awakened and, in pure instinct had separated himself from his hikari.  
Ryou's head was lashed back, his mouth wide open emitting the only thing he could: the scream. His pale, frail body was convulsing and his hazel eyes were squeezed shut, tears leaking from them. His bony hands clutched his abdomen where the spear had been only moments before... or at least in his dream.  
It took a good, sharp slap from his yami to stop him from screaming, though how his yami could slap him when he was incorporeal would have been beyond him at any other given time. "Stop it!" the Grave Robber said with vehemence, giving the boy a choppy, if unneeded, shake, also what should have been beyond the Spirit to do. The shake woke Ryou finally up; his eyes were wide and frightened and he was shaking and drawing in scared, shuddery little breaths.  
"Father?" He gasped. His darker half smirked. His vessels' dependence on that mortal scholar was amusing, but right now there were more important things to exploit. Ryou, on the other hand realized it really wasn't his father and shrank back from the Spirit. In contrast to other Spirits, the Tomb-Robber was solid looking, but slightly misty around the edges, and the fact that most of his time he spent sleeping within his vessel made him mostly unknown to Ryou. The young man knew, however, when this Spirit appeared it meant trouble. "What do you want?" He said in barely more than a whisper.  
"What happened in your dream?" His Spirit answered in the same tone and pitch. Ryou, as if to counter plunged back under the covers and pulled them over his head. "Cream puff." Growled the Tomb-Robber and withdrew back into his Ring. Ryou didn't go back to sleep, however. It was dawn before the adrenaline rush wore off and when his alarm clock rang, he didn't even feel sleepy.  
  
* * * *  
  
It had been far too easy to find the information he wanted. All he had to do was walk from his own Soul Room, across the corridor of their minds and, easily breaking the lock that kept Ryou's Soul Room closed, walked into the adjoining Room. His vessels' Room was an odd mixture; the walls were made of stone, but they were painted white, with a few odd grey ones. He had a lush Illiad carpet adorning the floor and a polished mahogany table, but something about the room, as always, wasn't quite... right. There were masks of a most fanciful kind hanging from the walls; their faces were awful and fantastic all at the same time, beautiful and terrible, some with animalistic faces, some with human, and others yet of a kind not identifiable. They perched there on the walls, all grinning in a knowing manner as if they were judging you.  
But then, there were the children's games scattered on the floor, the drawing tablets, the coloured pencils, the cushions and a number of books and comics that set your mind at ease. The Spirit had no trouble finding the new ornament; it sat on the table, lovely and repulsive and sad. The Spirit picked up the object and stared into it, then trudged gently out of the Room, afraid, as he always was, that there were traps. He'd never tested to find out, but he knew the Masks were there for a reason. As usual when he exited his vessels Room, there was the customary sigh, much like the dying of a breeze. He'd never thought on the sound much, but now with the old, battered bracelet in his hands, it made his own mind swirl down a hundred different corridors.  
The bracelet was punctured in the center, forcefully, the metal puckering out as though something from behind had stabbed through with amazing violence. Slowly, with only one object on his mind, he walked back into his own Soul Room.  
  
* * * *  
  
The migraine hit at the worst possible time; he was outdoors, playing baseball in Gym. First the headache hit him so badly and thoroughly it felt like his brain had turned to instant mush, then the nausea came only a second after, then the blinding pain, caused by the light.  
They've never been this bad before... Ryou thought hazily as the ball whipped towards him and he passed out, the bat falling from his fingers as his body tipped sideways. He could still hear the people around him, their uproar at seeing the batter faint, and after a few seconds he could feel the people touching him; someone was shaking his arm, shouting his name in a high, scared voice, someone else was taking his pulse and shouting in a gravelly voice to the gym teacher to call the infirmary. 


	3. The Pharaoh and the Fiend

Apologies- I am SO sorry! I kept you all waiting for these chapters for far too much time allotted for suspense. Hopefully soon, you will get a full epic of Yu-Gi-Oh. Please forgive me. And thank you; believe me, I could not have done this without you!  
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, but I do own several original ideas hosted in this fic. SO DON'T EXPLOIT THEM! Oh, and please read and review. Thanks, and on with the fic.  
  
He knew he was within a chamber, that there were definite limits in this chamber, but those limits changed frequently, swirled from a space the size of a form fitting iron maiden to the two hundred acres of the ancient palace of Knossos in Crete. The look of the place changed with the form, so it could be outdoors, inside a small, dank dungeon, the smothering space of a pool of water, and a myriad number of others. The smell and feel changed, too- all smells varied to the view, the feel, was always numbing.  
The only constant was the pain. Pain racked his whole body as his heart exploded and reknitted a million times, as his form was crushed and reformed a million times, as his breath was sucked agonizingly from him, then restored. There were small waiting periods between each wave of pain, so there was euphoric relief when the agony ended, then dread that it would begin again, mixed with hope that it had ended. The worst thing was he couldn't fall unconscious, for some reason. There are always limits of pain a person could endure before they passed out or died; he had passed these limits a number of times, but he hadn't fallen unconscious.  
  
Now why was that? He pondered this in his hazy mind, in one of the lucid times between waves. Maybe it's because I'm- the thought rose, but never finished, because the twinges in his body began again. Then a burst of agony came and he screamed, grating on his already sore throat. And all he could do was scream and scream and...  
  
* * *  
  
In another time, in another place, but the same soul and body, Yugi Motou awoke in his twin-sized bed, screaming primally, pain splintering his tiny body. Next to him, though visible only to Yugi himself, a young man, a few years older than the said sixteen year old, jerked awake. The young man didn't look very solid; his image was fuzzy, indistinct at the corners and edges. He rolled over and flipped up on his knees simultaneously, staring groggily at the boy sitting up in his relatively small bed, and immediately reached forward to seize the younger boy.  
"Yugi! What is it? You need to stop screaming, Yugi, you need to stop screaming and tell me what's the mater!" Abruptly, the boy stopped. When he did he collapsed forward, against his own violation, against the older, oddly foggy boy, taking great, gasping breathes that racked his tiny, shuddering body. It was odd to see, the two young men might have been brothers or twins, but the both of them knew that was far from the truth. Their minds, however, were similar, which was what gave them their odd companionship Yugi had never really had a true friend before his Spirit, and the Spirit genuinely liked and enjoyed being with the boy. But now, there were more pressing matters at hand...  
The Spirit rubbed the boy's back and arms, chafing his tiny, smooth hands, and was deeply worried and distressed; Yugi had nightmares before, but obviously none as severe as this. "Spirit..." whispered Yugi, his body alternately convulsing and shaking. "I—I'm so frightened! S-something happened and I was in s-so much pain!" As the Spirit began to lay Yugi back down onto the bed his gave a strangled sort of scream, his body arching in the other boy's hands. The Spirit gave an involuntary bark of distress; something was definitely wrong, but he couldn't tell what...  
"Yugi, will you let me see?" He asked gently in a voice only Yugi could hear. Yugi's marvelous violet-ruby eyes snapped open as he heard this, then, almost spoke before the Spirit could finish his sentence.  
"No! I don't want you to fall into the dark! It's still there, waiting! I know I've seen it before, even though I don't know where... Please, Spirit... I'm afraid..." The older boy's expressive face changed into one of shock as Yugi's hands clutched like a vice at the Spirits shoulders. "Just... wait. It'll all be over in the morning."  
"If it makes you feel better, Yugi..." The Spirit said, lying back down in the bed. Yugi turned away from the boy only he could see and curled up, his beautiful eyes fixed on the dark, swirling nothingness only he could see.  
  
* * * *  
  
The Pharaoh later told himself that Yugi had only had a bad dream, and that it was nothing to worry about. But as his walked through the labyrinthine Room that was his mind, he felt distinctly uneasy. Avoiding traps he had put there more than a millennia ago, he entered a room that was wider, grander then the rest and he sat down on a throne that was still intact after all the years and wondered. It was quite some time before he rose and walked back to the door, embossed with an Eye of some long forgotten god and looked grimly at it and, praying to Ra to forgive him of what he was about to do, exited and crossed the Corridor. He didn't wait any longer then he had to before opening his aibou's door and looking inside.  
The Room was exactly as he had seen it before; the walls were plastered a gentle yellow, the floor was a plush carpet and all about the Room, there were stuffed animals, toys games, books, all of a varying sort. The spirit passed a cardboard stand-up of a clown and spotted the item that had so attracted his attention; it sat in one spot, lonely, repulsive and sad, contrasting with the liveliness around it. The Pharaoh looked at it with an infinitely sad expression, and picked it slowly, reverently, off the ground. He walked quietly from the Room, across the Corridor, and into the darkness that was his mind.  
It had been millennia ago when he had last seen the object and slowly, reverently, he placed his ruined, twisted diadem upon his head.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Watch it, Joey. That was a pretty risky move you made and you left yourself wide open for an attack." Yugi said speculatively, eyeing Joseph Wheeler's Jojikocy. Joey moaned and he let his head fall back on his shoulders.  
"Yug! I'll never get this right." The blonde boy smacked a hand into his forehead with disturbing force.  
"You keep doin' that, Joey, and pretty soon you won't have to worry about getting Duel Monsters right at all." Tristan Taylor said with a slight sniff in his voice. Yugi made to reply and his body was splintered with pain; it was as if all of the nerve endings he possessed were suddenly set on fire, or stabbed with pins. And, just as abruptly, a booming voice echoed within the corridors of his mind.  
"Pharaoh. Heed my warning with zeal. If you do not tread lightly among the paths of the future all will be lost. And when you see me you will bow at my feet. REMEMBER!"  
Yugi wasn't aware of the fact that he had passed into oblivion for a few seconds, but when he came to, someone was cradling his tiny form, shouting for someone to get the infirmary. But Yugi could not deny, even past the pain racking his body, the hook that voice had cunningly inserted in him. He could not deny it was pulling him into an oddly familiar destination... 


	4. The aftermath and the Scion

Author's Note: Heya, are you all ready for MY version of a Yu-Gi-Oh competition? This'll include things that American T.V. always cut out to make watching a little easier on the kiddies; in other words be prepared for a bit of MATURE THEMES! No, I don't mean sex. Jeez, what were you people thinking? . Gotcha.  
Disclaimer: I STILL don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!... damnit.  
A bit of an update: Okay, now that I know what hospitals do with you while you're waiting in agony for you to fix you up, I revised a bit. Or a least I know what my hospital did. Actually, due to the fact that I ran out of time and my ever so recent injury, I wasn't able to type until about a week ago. So please, forgive.  
  
The world was in shades of grey when Yugi opened his eyes. Grey and misty. And wobbly. Yugi gave a sickened moan and picked up an arm to rub his face, and he blinked his eyes to clear his vision. Abruptly, Solomon Motou appeared in Yugi field of vision, looking worried. He put a hand on Yugi's head, smoothing back his sweaty hair from his damp forehead. Solomon's eyes blinked and Yugi wasn't sure if he was trying to improve his aged vision, or if he was blinking back tears.  
"Yugi." Solomon said, huskily. "How do you feel?" Yugi gave his grandfather his irrepressible smile, though it was only a pale ghost of what it had previously been.  
"I'm okay." Yugi whispered back. For some reason, his voice didn't seem to want to go any louder than a whisper. As silence ensued, Yugi was suddenly alerted of a gentle, steady beeping in the background. Looking around for the source of the noise, he was also alerted to the fact that this wasn't his bed. No in fact it looked like—  
"Grandpa? Am I in the hospital?" The boy asked in what was almost a squeak. The beeping speeded up almost imperceptibly. Solomon looked over at the heart monitor, then back to his grandson and reached out again, gently stroking the boy's head and making gentle hushing noises.  
"Yes, Yugi. Apparently, you had a sort of seizure; the doctors are going to make sure you're alright." Solomon was obviously distressed but trying to hide it. Yugi, young, but not stupid, made to comfort him and was interrupted by a doctor entering the room. Solomon glanced over at the doctor, looked back at his grandson and gave the boy a reassuring smile. Yugi glanced apprehensively at the doctor as Solomon rose and left, leaving Yugi alone with the doctor.  
  
It wasn't so bad, really, being in a hospital. If you were quiet and clever enough, you could sneak from your room to enjoy a bit of fresh air next to the windows and gather your thoughts. This was precisely what Yugi found himself doing; after the doctor had left, he had taken Solomon aside to converse with him. They had not yet come back.  
"Spirit." whispered Yugi to his puzzle. "What happened, d'you think? I mean, that was pretty weird wasn't it? Am I going insane?" A deep, low chuckle rose, slightly jaded and tinged with bitterness.  
"No, you're not. You're either channeling or the offspring of the Scion are a lot more powerful than I thought. And I thought the Scion himself was weak." Another chuckle, louder this time. Yugi felt as though his brain, which previously felt as though a baby dragon had used it as a chew toy, were slowly piecing back together. A problem to solve was just like putting together a puzzle, one of his favourite pastimes.  
"Um, Spirit. Isn't a descendant a scion? What is the scion? I don't understand." Yugi would have liked to say more, and his Spirit would have liked to answer, but a pretty, preppy little nurse from America interrupted.  
"Yugi? Yugi Motou? There you are! We thought you'd run away. We'd like to take your blood pressure and do a few tests and you're home free. If you could come with me, please?" Yugi looked over his shoulder, wariness immediately kicking in. He pushed himself out of his chair, not without some difficulty, and walked totteringly to the nurse.  
Guess it'll have to wait, Spirit. Yugi gently intoned in his mind across the barren Soul Corridor. A dry chuckle answered. Silence. 


	5. The Sorcerer and the Scion

Authors' Note: This was written about two hours after my update, while I listened to Evanescence's "Haunted" and "Going Under". I thought it was oddly appropriate.  
Disclaimer: You all know it. I certainly know it. I don't own Yu-Gi- Oh! I don't even own any freestanding copies of it, like a DVD or a VHS. Sadly.  
  
Seto Kaiba jerked awake from the third time that the dream had occurred since twelve o'clock. The heat in his body, as always, dwindled mockingly; his fever had run rampant after that freak Ryou Bakura had commented cryptically on his state of being after the other dream he had had a few nights ago.  
It was still a surprise to him that he had made it to the infirmary quickly enough so that he didn't vomit outside the bathroom. Additionally, he had made it to the toilet, even, so he should have been given at least some credit for that. The nurse had been startled and she was requesting that he sign in even while Seto ignored her and headed for the bathroom. The nurse had been asking him questions that he really couldn't answer (for example: "How high would you think your temperature to be at?") So Kaiba promptly, and rather conveniently, passed out and when he woke he had felt much better. Well enough, in fact, that he could call his driver and get into bed under his own will power. Then the fever rose in the night and with it the dream.  
But now it was hot. Again. The familiar rough, calloused hands started to stroke his bare sides, sliding up his chest and fixed on his chest. The flesh on them was falling off, flaking in long, rotting strips, showing rotting muscle and yellowed bones that had been long in the crypts.  
"Look." Hissed the whispering, catarrh voice, next to the vicinity of his right ear. Seto did, and the scene was terrible. The city before him was burning; people were running, screaming in the streets and unspeakable things were pursuing them with a horrible, single-minded intensity. Now and again, one of the terrors would drag on one of the fleeing people and begin to slowly-  
Seto jerked awake again for now the fourth time, but now before the dream could finish. Oddly enough, though Kaiba was quite sure he was awake, the dream continued, or at least, did not end in the familiar way.  
The catarrh voice continued to speak to him. "Sorcerer, when you see me, you will join me. Remember!" There seemed to be no choice in the way the thing said it. Seto's feverish body wracked, know unsuppressed, and his feverish mind screamed. And for a long time after the dream finished, Kaiba was left alone on the bed. And for the first time since he was ten, he wept. 


	6. The Grave Robber and the Scion

Author's Note" Yes, I know these chapters are short, but this is because I'm copying them from a written notebook. They seem longer there, but that's because I have larger handwriting. Once again, I listened to Evanescence's "Haunted" and "Tourniquet". Try playing them and reading the story at the same time- gives you quite a chill. Disclaimer: I don't HAVE to say it, do I? Let's all just assume you know. I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!  
  
Ryou Bakura woke to feel as if a baby dragon had used his mouth as a potty, his brain as a nesting ground and his body as a midnight snack. He lay on his king-sized bed on his back with his legs twisted to the side and his arms out on either side, his wrists, bandaged with pristine white gauze, facing the ceiling. The room was dark, and the only light was in the center of his room where he had drawn his arcane circle and positioned his twelve, four-foot high black tapers. Three of them still burned and cast greasy light and sent shadows to dance on the walls and ceiling. The arcane symbol glistened mockingly at him, a quart of fresh blood spilled around its perimeter and center. His fresh blood.  
Abruptly, the voice started again and Ryou convulsed and started to pray, for the countless time that night. His yami's voice joined his own and together, there voice drowned out the third which chanted one mantra, the only one it had chanted all night.  
"Join me, child of darkness and darkness incarnate. Join me in the bonds of power!"  
That night, there would be no rest for Ryou Bakura. He would stop chanting out of exhaustion from blood loss and the voice stopped only shortly before.  
  
Yugi Motou sat up quickly in his narrow bed and gave himself an unwanted head rush. The dream began to fade as he lay back down and as he closed his eyes, the last image still burned in his brain; a rotting corpse walking slowly and inevitably toward him, the iron armor it wore clanking around him like the bells of doom.  
"Yugi?" A softly pervading voice interrupted his thoughts and finally awakened his Spirit. Yugi threw off his bedclothes and went to the door, opening it fractionally to let his mother peek through. "Do you feel well enough to have breakfast in the kitchen? You look a little wane..." She let herself trail off and looked worriedly at her only, and very precious, son. Yugi gave her a smile at the prospect of food.  
"Sure, Mom. Sounds great, I'll be right down." His mother smiled a hopeful, fragile smile; it seemed as if she didn't want to talk too loudly or she might hurt him. As she walked back down the stairs, Yugi closed the door and dressed contemplatively. Was everyone going to treat him like he was made of glass? He sincerely hoped not. Would his yami?  
'Good morning, Spirit?' Yugi offered as he made his pilgrimage from his room to the kitchen.  
'Yugi. Did you sleep well?' Yami answered gently, but he was always gentle when he spoke to Yugi. At least nothing changed there. Yugi responded more enthusiastically, making Yami wince.  
'Yeah, except for that really creepy dream. I don't think I've ever had a dream like that before.'  
'Yugi, could you keep it down a little bit. I've got a terrible headache. Was there a lich wearing armor in your dream?' Yugi was about to agree wonderingly when his grandfather greeted him warmly and solictitiously asked how Yugi felt.  
"G'morning, Grandpa! I feel great! What's for breakfast?" Yugi responded happily, setting his grandfather at ease.  
"Wonderful. You have your choice between toast, cereal, or omelets, or a combination of all three." Yugi enthusiastically chose the last and the tiny family sat down for breakfast.  
"There was something I've been meaning to tell you Yugi." Solomon Motou said after a stretch of silence or small talk. "There's a tournament coming up and it's in an entirely different country. Greece, in fact. There have been free tickets sent out to the tournament finalists in Battle City and Monster World. So, quite naturally, you were sent one. Two, actually." Yugi sat straighter as Solomon went on in the conversation and by the end, his eyes were wide and his face was joyful.  
"Oh, can I go, grandpa, can I. Mom, can I. Please I'll be so, so good! Please!" He was bouncing in his seat and swinging his legs, looking from his mother to his grandfather. He was pleased to see their expressions were favourable. Yugi's mother spoke up.  
"Well, your grandfather and I were thinking you could do with some time off." At this, Yugi sat up straight.  
"Who's gonna come with me? Grandpa?" Unlike most teens, Yugi was deeply attached to his mother and grandfather and he would have truly appreciated his grandfathers company.  
His grandfather smiled and nodded just as the phone rang. 


End file.
